


Got The World On A String

by writesometimes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Seriously this is tooth rotting stuff, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:32:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9477731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writesometimes/pseuds/writesometimes
Summary: Three times Poe kinda, sorta, maybe flirts with Finn and one time Finn takes charge





	

**Author's Note:**

> This got very out of hand very fast and I. am. so. sorry.

The general consensus around the Resistance base was that Poe Dameron was a shameless flirt. He would hand out charming smiles like candy, gaze at people demurely up through his thick lashes, grin lopsidedly at almost anything.

The truth, however, was that none of it was done with flirtatious intent. That's just who Poe was, a strange and bold mix of charismatic and coy. Truth was, when he _did_ try to flirt, it was agonizing. His cheeks would flush, he'd bite his lower lip, run his hands through his hair. They were all nervous habits he thought for sure would give it away. That he was, in fact, not a smooth operator. But, much to Poe's astonishment, everyone seemed to read them as just more flirtatious behaviors.

He tried to keep it all in check when he interacted with Finn. Handsome, sweet, pure, amazing Finn. Finn who had been kidnapped by The First Order and who deserved so much more than life had given him. A man who more than likely had very little concept of flirtation and romance and _relationships_.

So, Poe tried with all his might to reel himself in, even the subconscious behaviors. Sometimes he failed.

______

He'd spent what felt like months by Finn's side in the drab, sterile medical wing waiting for him to wake up. Everyone had taken notice, but no one was quite sure what to do. They couldn't tell him to take breaks, he didn't listen. Even BB-8 hadn't had any luck in pulling the pilot from the former trooper's side. 

At first, Poe wasn't sure what to do, so he mostly sat in silence. Watching Finn intently for any signs of life. Eventually though, he began telling the man stories. Missions he'd done for the Resistance, funny shenanigans he'd gotten into with BB-8, blissful memories of his childhood. He got so that he couldn't stop. Every day he would pull up an uncomfortable chair and tell another story to Finn. And every day he'd watch carefully for any signs of recognition from the man who sprung him from The First Order and saved his life.

One day, about two weeks into Finn's slumber, BB-8 had come barreling into Finn's room, beeping wildly that Poe needed to seriously get himself to the dining hall for a meal. Poe had merely shrugged the droid off, unwilling to leave Finn's side. BB-8 rolled off in a huff, and in the process knocked over a bag sitting by the door.

Poe's old jacket tumbled out along with what remained of Finn's worldly belongings. The pilot knelt down and carefully picked up the tattered leather jacket. He ran his fingers over the burn scar down the back. Tears pricked his eyes and he felt like someone had sucked his last breath from his lungs.

"Shit," he exhaled quietly as he sat back down in his chair. He gingerly laid the jacket across his lap and caressed the soft leather. "You gotta wake up, buddy," Poe pleaded quietly, taking Finn's hand in his own. "We've got a lot more fun to have and a lot more hell to raise." Poe sat quietly for some minutes, his thumb stroking Finn's hand softly. The urge to bundle the other man up in his arms almost overwhelming. He ran his free hand through his hair nervously.

Maybe it was exhaustion, the lighting, Poe losing his mind from being in that same room for days on end, but he swore he saw Finn's eyelids flutter.

______

They were off the base, far from D'Qar, on some small planet doing recon work for the Resistance. Their mark had ducked into some shady bar so Poe and Finn had followed suit. A light layer of smoke drifted through the dimly lit bar, different smells wafted through the thick air. Finn scrunched his nose and coughed into the crook of his arm.

"All right, buddy?" Poe asked, patting Finn on the back gingerly.

Finn wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket. _Poe's_ jacket. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It just -- smells in here."

Poe chuckled quietly and smirked. "Is this your first time in a bar?"

Finn looked over sheepishly to the man at his side. "Yes? No? I mean. Maz's place wasn't like -- _this_ ," he said gesturing broadly at the room before them.

"Maz's place was definitely different that this," Poe laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling charmingly.

"You'd been to Maz's place?" Finn questioned excitedly.

Poe smirked coyly. "That's a story for another time." He nodded in the direction of an empty booth and placed his hand at the small of Finn's back, guiding him carefully to their destination.

Poe slid into the booth first and tried not to think about all of the gunk undoubtedly covering every surface of the dark bar. His germ concerns took a back seat, however, when Finn quickly slid in beside him, their thighs touching.

"Our mark is at the bar. They look nervous. Maybe they're waiting for someone?" Finn observed in a hushed tone.

"Mmm-hmm," Poe mumbled distractedly, staring down at where his thigh was touching Finn's.

"What should we do?" Finn implored.

"Order drinks, blend in," Poe said quickly, trying to hide his embarrassment over being thrilled by Finn's closeness. He quickly flagged down a waitress and ordered two drinks for him and Finn.

Finn looked quizzically at Poe. "What'd you order me?"

Shock was evident on Poe's face instantly. "Shit, Finn, I'm sorry. I didn't even think. I -- I just ordered us both my favorite cocktail. I can ask her to come back, change the order," he suggested quickly, running his hand through his hair repeatedly.

Finn just shrugged. "I wouldn't have known what to order anyway. Not much drinking going on in The First Order," he said nonchalantly.

It was like a punch to the gut, a dark cloud moving in, any time Finn mentioned The First Order. _He_ didn't seem to be filled with residual rage and hatred, only wonder and curiosity for all life now had to offer. Poe carried the rage, the overwhelming desire to destroy everything related to The First Order. The sound of glasses clinking down on the table broke Poe's rage induced mental fog.

Finn excitedly grabbed his glass and eyed the light-greenish liquid inside. He brought it closer to his face and took a deep whiff. "Doesn't smell awful," he offered optimisitically.

Poe ducked his head coyly and took his own drink off the table. He waited patiently for Finn to take a drink.

Finn slowly raised the glass to his lips and took a small sip. "I like it!" he declared enthusiastically.

Poe thought his grin was going to make his face ache for days. He leaned over closer to Finn so their bodies were plastered together at their sides, and slid his arm around the other man's strong shoulders. "I'm very glad, Finn. Very glad," he laughed, looking up at him through his lashes.

Finn smiled back softly and took a generous swig of his cocktail. Poe sat, absentmindedly rubbing Finn's shoulder with his thumb.

______

The look on Poe's face was nothing short of complete shock when Finn divulged he knew absolutely _nothing_ about cooking. He wasn't really sure why it was such a shocking revelation, surely Storm Troopers didn't have little kitchenettes in their rooms. Even so, Poe couldn't seem to fathom someone having zero kitchen experiences. It made his heart ache. Finn picked at his cuticles nervously while Poe had stood there, slack jawed, staring at him. "No. No, I cannot allow this," Poe said shaking his head.

The pair had gathered in Poe's room for a 'decent, home-cooked meal' as Poe had called it. The food was by far the best thing Finn had ever eaten, and he spent most of the meal thanking Poe for cooking and making indecent sounds of approval. Poe had blushed the entire time and tried not to giggle like a mad man.

It wasn't until after dinner that Finn started asking about the particulars of the meal, how one would even make it. When Poe had started rattling off recipes quickly, Finn had looked more than confused. It was then he'd revealed he had zero experience with cooking.

So, Poe found himself prodding Finn into the base kitchen to teach him how to make dessert. It was after hours so the pair would have free-range of the kitchen. After a quick look through the large pantry, Poe determined they had all the ingredients needed to make his mother's old cookie recipe. He stood shoulder to should with Finn in front of a large counter, sorting through ingredients.

"All this _stuff_ is gonna make cookies?" Finn asked skeptically.

Poe laughed, a short and loud burst from his grinning lips. "Yeah, all this _stuff_ makes cookies."

Finn nodded seriously and looked again at all the things scattered about the counter top. Poe began pulling bowls and measuring cups from the cabinets below. He zig-zagged through the kitchen fetching baking sheets and spoons. Finn smiled to himself over Poe's enthusiasm.

"You know, this probably could have waited until morning," Finn suggested with a laugh.

"Absolutely not! Everyone should have memories of making cookies with their family! And besides, the kitchen would be too crowded in the morning," Poe said in a rush as he measured out the dry ingredients.

Finn stood completely still, unable to even blink. Had Poe just suggested that they were a _family_?

"Did you just say we were a family?" Finn asked quietly.

A tablespoon of something clattered onto the counter top, the metal ping echoing through the empty kitchen, fine powder flying everywhere.

"Finn, Gods, I'm -- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to -- it's just I guess I..."

Finn started shaking his head quickly before cutting Poe off. "No, Poe, it's okay. It's nice, actually. You and Rey are pretty much the only people I have in universe. And with her off doing Jedi training, well, it's nice to have you around. It's nice to feel like we're our own kind of little family I guess," he explained softly, ducking his head.

Poe thought his heart was going to thud from his chest and his head would float away all at the same time. He swallowed thickly and inched his way between Finn and the counter, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad, you know, that you're okay with that," he sighed. Had he even made any sense? Was he even still breathing?

Finn raised his head and smiled softly at Poe, the pilot seemed to be almost glowing with joy.

"Oh," Poe gasped suddenly as he noticed some of the now-forgotten baking powder dusting Finn's nose. He reached up and gently wiped it off with his thumb.

Finn stood very still, holding his breath, as he realized just how close he and Poe were. The pilot noticed Finn's sudden weariness and slid from between him and the counter.

"Well, these aren't going to bake themselves," Poe chuckled nervously, praying Finn couldn't see just how red he was turning.

______

Blessedly, Finn had been able to stay in communication with Rey while she was training with _Luke freaking Skywalker_. At least once a week his room was awash with the soft blue light cast from Rey's hologram, sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor as if she were actually there. And at least thirty minutes of those weekly chats were always spent discussing Finn's _feelings_ for Poe Dameron. Rey would sigh and roll her eyes and tell Finn to ' _Get on with it already_ '. Finn would squirm where he sat in front of her blue form and groan.

Finally, one night Rey announced she and Skywalker would be returning to D'Qar in two weeks. Finn had beamed in excitement and disbelief. Rey held up a hand, though, signaling she wasn't finished. "Before I get back, you have your own work to do," she said seriously.

"I'm already out of bed and walking around, Rey, what more..."

Rey quickly cut him off. "You have to tell Poe how you feel before I get back so I don't have to hear you pine over him in person!"

Finn stared in shock at his best friend.

Rey giggled. "Get to work, _big deal_ ," she said smugly as she pressed a button and ended the transmission.

The next morning Finn sat in the dining hall, unaware of almost everything around him. Rey's words just kept echoing through his ears. _Two weeks_. To tell Poe he liked him. How was he not supposed to panic over that? How was he not supposed to mess up?

A clap on his shoulder startled him, and Finn jumped a little.

"Where's flyboy," Jessika asked teasingly, arching her brows.

Finn shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe in the hangar? Haven't seen him this morning," he responded flatly.

Jessika let her hand slip from Finn's shoulder slowly. "You okay, kid? I thought you two always had breakfast together."

Finn sighed. "I'm fine, just tired is all. Thinking about a lot lately."

Jessika eyed Finn carefully before nodding once. "Take it easy, kid. Come eat with the rest of the pilots if you want," she offered as she walked past Finn's table.

Finn just watched as she disappeared into the crowd of the dining hall. Then he had an idea. Possibly a disastrous one, but an idea all the same. He pushed his tray away and decided to head for the hangar, Rey's voice in his head yet again. ' _Get on with it already_ '.

Finn wasn't even all the way to the hangar before BB-8 came crashing into his shins. "Hey, BB-8, is Poe in there?" he asked, pointing inside the hangar. The droid beeped happily and made a nodding motion. Finn gave it a thumbs up in thanks and made his way inside the hangar.

Poe was, of course, hard at work on his x-wing. He had some kind of olive drab jumpsuit on, unzipped and pushed down around his hips. A thin, white, sweat and oil stained tank top the only thing covering his torso. Finn swallowed thickly.

"Poe! I thought I could find you here," he called happily, trying to mask his nerves.

The pilot jerked up, startled, and knocked his head on an open panel of the x-wing.

"Shit," Finn hissed as he rushed over to the now moaning Poe Dameron. "Are you okay?" he asked as he watched Poe climb down from the small ladder he was on.

"I'll live," Poe said, rubbing the back of his head gingerly. "What's up? You didn't come get me for breakfast. Everything okay?"

Finn furrowed his brows, unsure how to proceed. "Just tired this morning," he shrugged, "I, uh, was actually wondering if we could do dinner instead?" he asked, wincing anxiously.

Poe shot him a lopsided smile and Finn thought he would sink right through the floor.

"Dinner would be great, bud! Meet you in the dining hall at six?"

Finn took a deep breath. He could do this. "Actually, I was thinking maybe we could eat outside together? I just -- could use the space today I think."

Poe's eyes softened and he cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, yeah of course. Whatever you need! Six still good?" he asked softly.

Finn smiled. "Absolutely."

He had all day to get everything ready and make it absolutely perfect. Nothing to worry about.

At five-thirty Finn was still scrambling to get everything ready, bringing together the final details and such. With a little help from BB-8 and the _saintly_ kitchen staff, everything was almost ready. He'd gone all out planing their al fresco dinner. He'd found a nice spot near a hillside not far from the base, beneath a wide, leafy tree. A large, soft blanket had been loaned out by a pilot. Some picnic baskets had been found somewhere on base. It was all coming together.

It would, hopefully, be just like the idyllic picnics from Poe's childhood the man had told him about when Finn was lying in the medical wing. When Poe still didn't know if he would wake up. It was almost overwhelming for Finn to think about Poe sitting there by his bedside telling him stories. Finn shook his head and got back to setting out the plates, he had work to do.

Promptly at six Poe strolled over to their cozy little dining spot, BB-8 leading the way. He let out a a low, appreciative whistle. "Quite the spread we have here it seems."

Finn felt his face flush. "BB-8 and the kitchen staff helped," he explained sheepishly, gesturing to the scene before them.

BB-8 beeped happily and looked between the two men before nodding and rolling off. Poe huffed a laugh and shrugged. "Must have somewhere to get to," he said airily. He plopped down lazily on the blanket and peeked inside the basket. "Oh, man, this is my favorite meal!" he said grinning from ear to ear.

Finn chuckled and sat down next to Poe on the blanket. "I know, I asked BB-8," he confessed.

Poe looked at him in confusion. "I thought you couldn't speak droid."

"C-3PO may have helped. For a minute. Before I wanted to throw him down a trash chute," Finn admitted, laughing. Poe's eyes shone brightly as he rocked backward, laughing loudly.

"I hope it's all good. I had to pull some strings, and I'll be owing the kitchen staff favors for the rest of my life, but it was worth it," Finn said warmly.

Poe righted himself and smiled kindly at Finn. "Totally worth it, this is amazing. Thank you, buddy."

Finn froze for a moment, unsure of what to do next. He decided to serve the food before it got cold. The two were soon busy devouring their dinner, pleasantly surprised at how good it all was. Eventually though, Finn grew restless. He could do this now, or he could wait for Rey to come back and embarrass him. He leaned over into Poe's space and stole some food off his plate, looking for an easy way to get closer to the man.

Poe leaned further into Finn's side and whined in protest. "No fair! You still have plenty left on your plate!"

Finn almost giggled. Then he realized just how close he and Poe actually were. Then he almost stood up and ran in a panic. It was a soft sigh from Poe that kept him rooted to the spot.

"This is kinda perfect," the pilot whispered soft and low, for no one's ears but Finn's.

Finn took a deep, steadying breath. "I was hoping it would be. Like all the picnics you talked about having when you were a kid," he confessed quietly.

Poe looked surprised but made no effort to move away from Finn. "You, uh, heard all that stuff I told you when you were laid up in the medical wing?" he asked nervously.

Finn smiled crookedly. "I don't know if I heard it _all_ , but I remember some of it."

Poe blew out a short breath, eyes searching skyward. Finn felt a sudden burst of determination and laid his fingers delicately over Poe's where they rested on the blanket. "I was just glad someone came to talk to me. That I hadn't been -- forgotten," he divulged quietly.

Poe's eyes snapped back down to Finn, wide and a little shocked. "I could never forget you, Finn. You're pretty important to me," he said ardently.

"Poe, you're amazing," Finn blurted, his heart pounding in his chest. Poe bit his lower lip as his cheeks flushed a comely shade of pink. "If I don't kiss you right now, Rey's gonna kick my ass when she gets back," Finn said seriously.

Poe laughed and tilted his head slightly to look Finn square in the eye. "Wouldn't want you to get your ass kicked," he whispered.

Finn closed the space between them and kissed Poe. His lips were softer than Finn had imagined, and for once he smelled more like after shave than engine grease. It was perfect.

Poe leaned back after a moment, lazy grin on his face, before he laughed once more. "Wait, why would Rey kick your ass for not kissing me?"

"Long story," Finn chuckled before leaning back in for another kiss.

______

The brilliance of the grin on Rey's Face as she exited the Millennium Falcon and saw Finn and Poe waiting for her, hand in hand, could have rivaled the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Star Wars fic even though I've seen the movies like 100 times each...Hope someone enjoys it 
> 
> For some reason I envisioned Poe's favorite cocktail being a Gimlet. Maybe because they're classic, bold, uncomplicated, yet delightfully refreshing 
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://imwritesometimes.tumblr.com/)


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